


Flick

by flippyspoon



Series: Pour Some Sugar on Me [21]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Flangst I guess, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: Can't seem to get the spacing not messed up since I'm grabbing it from a weirdly formatted tumblr post. Ah well.





	Flick

**Author's Note:**

> Can't seem to get the spacing not messed up since I'm grabbing it from a weirdly formatted tumblr post. Ah well.

_Flick._  
The metal on metal scrape as Billy flicked his Zippo open was so loud it brought Steve out of a bad dream, which had likely been its intent.  
Steve hummed, rolling over and rubbing his eyes in the fuzzy warmth of his room and saw Billy leaning on his door, frowning at his Zippo as he flicked it open and closed. He was not smoking.  
“Fuck,” Steve murmured. “When’d you get here?” Steve had fallen asleep while doing homework again. He tended to find sleep whenever it happened to show up these days.  
Billy chewed on his lip. “I dunno.”  
Steve sat up, blinking at Billy, rubbing a socked foot. It was still light out and he watched dust float on the air in a sunbeam through the blinds that shined on Billy who looked dour, one arm resting against his t-shirted chest.  
Billy only ever came over for one reason and sometimes he played coy. Steve didn’t mind it much because, after all, the sex was amazing.   
This didn’t look like coy but Steve had no other frame of reference.  
“Are you gonna do the song and dance where you pretend you dunno why you’re here?” Steve said. 

He’d jammed his toe in a game at school, a game in which Billy had bodychecked him even while grasping Steve’s hip, touching the small of his back, looking back at Steve with startled eyes as if _Steve_  was somehow the interloper.

Billy had a bit of tobacco or something on his tongue and he picked off his with his fingers. “No. I’m…not here for that.” He wouldn’t look at Steve.  
_Flick._

“Are you here to burn my house down?” Steve said, attempting to keep it light. The joke didn’t seem to register. For one hysterical moment Steve wondered if Billy had come over to burn his house down. “Billy? You alright?”

_Flick._

The metal was so loud in the muted closeness of the room. 

“No?”  Billy said.

Steve got to his feet, but he hesitated as Billy remained there, leaning, staring down at his Zippo.  
_Flick._  
“Okay….” Steve said.  
_I want to help_ , he thought.  
“Why are you here?” Steve said.  
“I-I can’t…”  
“S’okay,” Steve whispered, taking a careful step forward. “Not gonna tell anybody.”  
“I…” Billy swallowed, and  _flick_. “I need you.”  
_Flick._  
Steve didn’t really expect his heart to start pounding at the words and he stepped yet closer and brought his hands up slowly, carefully, and traced the back of Billy’s hands with his fingers, feather-light, up his forearms, feeling the little hairs there along his freckled skin.  
“Really?” Steve said.  
“I need you,” Billy said again, and his voice cracked a little.  
Steve shut his eyes and he pecked the suggestion of a kiss to Billy’s lips. “You promise?”  
“ _Steve_ ,” Billy said, thickly. “I  _need_  you.”  
“Okay,” Steve whispered and he wrapped his arms around Billy then, hearing the lighter fall to the floor. “I got you, baby.”  
Billy hissed and said, “My back’s fucked up.”  
Steve dropped his hands to Billy’s waist and bit his lip, angry because he knew what it meant. “Come on, lie down…”  
“I…I need you. Fuck…” Billy said again, and he whimpered now as he grabbed Steve and kissed him desperately, hotly, and pawed at Steve as if were a well in the desert and Billy had been walking in the dry lands for years.  
“I got you, baby,” Steve said, half into his mouth, and held him. He was gentle even as Billy’s touch was bruising and then soft again, like he was fighting himself even as he held onto Steve for dear life. It was the damndest thing he was learning about Billy; he only looked unbreakable, he was actually fragile as hell.

 

 _Flick._  
The teacher had left study hall to itself which meant Billy could stretch out at his desk and play with his Zippo. He sat by the window, mouth pensive, as he stared at the lighter. His desk was diagonal to Steve’s. Steve watched Billy’s hands. Billy’s fingers were thick and square but they were nimble with the Zippo as it twisted and turned around in his hand.   
_Flick._  
Metal against metal disrupted the quiet of the classroom. They could have all been talking but spring days were feeling almost like summer, it was so warm and sleepy everywhere. The sound was loud and Billy was flicking it in Steve’s direction so that Steve felt as if Billy was speaking to him through flicks of the flame. He was really beginning to love that sound.   
Nowadays after they made love Billy would sit up and wait for Steve to sit up behind him and wrap his arms around Billy’s waist while he smoked and played with his Zippo. He’d stick his cigarette in his mouth and take Steve’s hands in his and play with his fingers and Steve would take the Zippo and fidget with it and lay idle kisses along Billy’s shoulder.  
_Flick._  
Steve propped his chin on his arm, sleepy now himself, wishing he was in bed and holding Billy.   
Billy’s eyes slid over to Steve; those cold, icy blue eyes now bright and wide, vulnerable, questioning.  
Steve smiled a little and mouthed: _I love you too._  
He watched the grin bloom on Billy’s face, his eyes closing for a moment, his long thick eyelashes two little happy paintbrushes on his cheeks.  
_Flick._

 


End file.
